


Lost Boy

by I_am_SHERlocked (SLUG_CAT624)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: "Lost Boy" by Ruth B, Angst, Caves & Caverns, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Kidnapping, Knife Wounds, Stabbing, song!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 16:17:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20245720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLUG_CAT624/pseuds/I_am_SHERlocked
Summary: He came to me with the sweetest smile, told me he wanted to talk for a while.He said, "******** that's what they call me, I promise that you'll never feel lonely."And ever since that day...[Or, The East Wind has lost her last Peter Pan.  It's time to find a new one (or an old one, if you prefer).  This time Peter doesn't come willingly.  Poor, poor, Peter.]





	Lost Boy

**Author's Note:**

> Podfic in progress!

The underground cavern glowed ghastly with an iridescent light. Water dripped, and the bound man was soaked to the bone. Jerking at his bonds again, Sherlock Holmes let out an involuntary shiver- a product of the cold and dampness. An electronic screech filled the air, ringing though the space, before a popular American pop song began to play though the speakers.

Sherlock quirked a brow. “This is new.”

_There was a time-_ Footsteps echoed.

“Ah, Eurus.” Sherlock greeted. Eurus Holmes blinked at him with owlish eyes.

_-when I was alone-_ Eurus treaded closer, bare feet squelching on the mossy floor.

“_Nowhere to go, no place to call home,”_ Her lips moved in time with the song, smiling. She knelt in front of her brother, making her level with the Sherlock, who was bound to a chair.

_My only friend was the man on the moon…_ The knife shot seemingly of it’s own accourd into Sherlock’s ribcage, blood staining his white shirt. _Even sometimes he’d go away too…_ The knife twists, and Sherlock gasps.

_Then one night when I closed my eyes…_ Eurus stabs again. Involuntary tears from the pain slid down Sherlock’s cheeks. _I saw a shadow flying by…_ Another stab, again and again. Sudden clarity dawns on Sherlock with the next verse.

_He came to me, with the greatest smile. Told me he wanted to talk for a while…_

“Moriarty.”

Eurus smiled. “What else, brother dear?” The knife digs deeper.

_He said ‘Peter Pan’ that’s what they call me…_

“I promise that you’ll never be lonely,” Sherlock gasps. Eurus grins.

“And ever since that day?”

She steps back, wiping the knife clean, staining her gown red. Sherlock’s bonds break free.

_I am a Lost Boy, from Neverland. Usually hanging out with Peter Pan…_

Sherlock dose the one thing he has never done in his life- _runs._

_When we’re bored we play in the woods, always on the run from Captain Hook! _

_‘Run, run, Lost Boy!’ They say to me. ‘Away from all of reality…’ Neverland’s home to Lost Boys like me, and Lost Boys like me are free._

He’s knees give out at the mouth of the cave. He looks at the endless expanse of blue-grey water, and screams.

_Neverland’s home to Lost Boy’s like me, and Lost Boy’s like me are free._


End file.
